Page 11 of Raven's Nest
Shadows danced across the room, the setting sun already lost behind a band of clouds. A few raindrops hit the windshield, silently sliding down the glass.
The bridge was dark. No functioning gauges or navigational equipment and no crew. Just the helm absently turning on its own as the light faded into gray.
She made a quick circuit, tried the engines, just in case, then backtracked to the stairs. Her boots tapped the metal surface as she hurried down, continuing to the lower level instead of returning to her boat. While it seemed increasingly unrealistic that she’d actually heardanyone calling out, Saylor couldn’t leave until she’d searched the entire vessel. Until she’d quelled the voices in her head that refused to be silent.
She reached the lower deck, removed her mag light, then froze. Voices. Low. Distant. Too soft to pick up any words, the syllables fading beneath the constant roar of the waves. The eerie way the hull groaned with every shift.
She took a breath and grabbed the handle when three sharp pops sounded beyond the door. The lingering echo jacking up her heart rate. She placed her ear to the hatch, listened, then slowly opened it, clearing the space beyond as the small beam bounced across the interior.
Had she imagined it? Fragments of memories intruding on the present? Or had she missed a threat?
The air hung heavy around her, hints of diesel and sweat adding to the stale atmosphere. She waited a few more seconds, then struck off, checking each room, listening for anything that proved she hadn’t manufactured the sounds. That this was more than a by-product of a past she hadn’t made peace with, when she stopped outside the last hatch. It sat slightly ajar, a bloody handprint smeared across the front.
Saylor held her breath, palmed the door, then shoved it open. Panels and gauges dotted the area, another corridor leading toward the stern. She bounced the beam across the floor, stopping at a splattering of more blood. She wasn’t an expert, but it looked like the kind that came from high velocity impact.
Three dull pops.
She startled, scanning the rest of the area, wondering if she’d actually heard a noise, when she swore it sounded, again. One, two, three. Then shouting. Footsteps racing down the hallway, the metallic clang ringing inside her head. A familiar face wavered in the shadows, one final pop nearly taking her to her knees.
She closed her eyes, an eerie hum following her into the darkness. It wasn’t real. It was just those remnants she’d been thinking about. A night better left forgotten. Until a scuff sounded down the hallway. A boot. Maybe more. Moving toward her. Stealthy, as if trying to remain quiet. Just like she’d done.
Giving herself a mental shake, she flicked off her mag light, then shuffled behind a bulkhead. Not quite hidden, but enough she’d have the upper hand. More scuffs. Slightly louder. Closer. Definitely two people. Moving in sync. Starting and stopping.
Was there a hint of smoke in the air? More diesel?
She closed her eyes, willing away the memory. Too fragmented to make sense of, just the suggestion of something darker. A truth a part of her obviously didn’t want to face.
The door creaked, a shadowy figure materializing against a dim light. The small beam bounced across the room, stopping on that bloody patch. A curse, then the silhouette moved inside, taking up all the space. Sucking out the air until she could barely breathe. The guy took a step — swung that light toward her.
She aimed at his chest — prepared to shift to his head if she caught a glimpse of body armor. “One more step, asshole, and I’ll drop you.”
CHAPTER THREE
“Atticus? What the hell are you doing here?”
Zain scanned the horizon, again, that voice in his head already screaming at him. That this was more than just a derelict vessel. How nothing good would come from their search.
Atticus limped a bit closer. “The same damn thing you are, only you four took your sweet time getting here.” He waved toward the rest of the vessel. “Saylor’s already scouring the ship for survivors. Thought she heard voices, though, I have a bad feeling it was more her conscience messing with her than anything else. Might be nice if she wasn’t checking the bowels of this thing all alone.”
Zain gave Atticus a once-over, stopping at his ankle. “You get that here?”
“No, I climbed up the ladder with it. Of course, I got it here. Damn drum let loose while we were making our way across. The line holding it had been cut partway so any kind of tension snapped it. I wanted Saylor to waitfor backup, but that girl’s got more grit than most. Couldn’t leave anyone behind if they needed help. So, get your asses moving.”
Zain stepped back when Chase darted over, placing his medic bag on the ground. “We’ll go find Saylor. Chase can tend to that ankle before your whole damn leg turns blue.”
“I’m fine. Been hurt worse than this.”
Chase grunted. “Which is just additional proof that you’re as reckless as ever.” He held up his hand. “Just, sit your ass down and let me have a look. Zain and Kash’ll find Saylor. And I’ll back them up if needed.”
Zain clapped Chase on the shoulder. “Thanks, buddy. Fire off a shot if you need us back.”
Zain headed toward Kash when Atticus called his name. He glanced back at the man, arching a brow.
Atticus sighed. “It’s not my place to share stories. Just, be careful. Saylor might be more apt to shoot first, ask questions, later. Especially now that she’s below deck. Noises get amplified and distorted. And with the power off, she’ll have to rely on her mag light.”
“I expect everyone I encounter to shoot first. Sounds as if there’s more to this than her worrying about her safety, though.”
“Just, watch out. I don’t want to have to replace you.”
